Andrei
Rublev is a 1966 Russian motion-picture directed by Russian auteur Andrei Tarkovsky. The movie presents a semibiographical account of Andrei Rublev
who is considered to be the greatest medieval Russian painter of Orthodox icons
and frescoes. Andrei Rublev is set against the sumptuous, albeit grotesque
backdrop of the 15th century Russia. Like an epic Russian novel,
Andrei Rublev—also known as The Passion According to Andrei—not only beautifully depicts the caricatures of its wide array of characters but also
poignantly portraits the Russian soul. Tarkovsky not manages to capture the soul of a passionate artist who, lost in the mediocrity
of his time, is forced to question the veracity of his own genius, but also succeeds in presenting a kaleidoscopic snapshot of a highly tumultuous phase of Russian history.

Russian Actor Anatoliy Solonitsyn as Andrei Rublev

Andrei Rublev is beautifully presented in form of seven chapters and a prologue and an epilogue with each chapter allegorically depicting a different theme. Through
Andrei Rublev, Tarkovsky demonstrates that spirituality lies at the very core
of creative freedom and it is this connect with the divine (whether alleged or
ultimate) that gives the artist his inspiration. Andrei Rublev also talks about
the self-inflicted mediocrity of existence that slowly but steadily leads to poverty of thought, subsequently leading to a state of mental stagnation. Tarkovsky brutally
touches upon the duality of art: as a healer as well as a punisher: For those
who are true to themselves, art can serve be a great healer while for those who
doubt their own abilities, art can be a merciless punisher. In Andrei Rublev, Tarkovsky
also expatiates upon the hypocrisies associated with human existence. Tarkovsky
professes subjugation to the omnipotence of art, although not as a symbol of
accepting its authority but rather as a gesture of acknowledging its greatness.
It wouldn't be far-fetched to imagine that through the medium of Andrei Rublev,
Tarkovsky tries to alleviate his own artistic suffering that owing to the
perpetual ignorance, indifference and brutality of the ruck has become a
quotidian reality for an artist.

Russian Maestro Andrei Tarkovsky

Before
I go any further, let me first confess that while Japanese master auteur
Akira Kurosawa happens to be my all time favorite movie-maker, a very near
second is Russian maestro Andrei Tarkovsky. This being said, I must also assert that while Kurosawa is the master of the ‘Simple’, Tarkovsky is indeed
the master of the ‘Visceral’. No other auteur, perhaps with the likely
exception of Bergman, Bunuel and Fellini, has succeeded in besieging this
uncharted avenue with such an imperial sense of poise and finesse.

A Still from Andrei Tarkovsky's Stalker

Tarkovsky
glides through these bizarre, alienated territories with an ease and comfort of a quixotic
artist lost in his art to such an extent that to a less keen observer it would
appear to be a mere act of self-indulgence demonstrated by a narcissist who, because of being
overwhelmed by his own arrogance, is incapable of doing anything more productive, but
a more perspicacious eye is ought to know better, for beneath this facade of nonchalance lies a consummate yet selfless showman who, being propelled by the innocence of
his artistic fervor, is capable of giving much
more to his audience than what he could possibly keep for himself. Swedish
maestro Ernst Ingmar Bergman said of Takvovsky: “When film is not a document,
it is dream. That is why Tarkovsky is the greatest of them all. He moves with such
naturalness in the room of dreams. He doesn't explain. What should he explain
anyhow? He is a spectator, capable of staging his visions in the most unwieldy
but, in a way, the most willing of media. All my life I have hammered on the
doors of the rooms in which he moves so naturally.”

Kirill meets Theophanes the Greek

Andrei
Rublev, like most of Tarkovsky’s works, is more than the sum of its parts. In
Andrei Rublev, Andrei Tarkovsky perspicaciously and punctiliously touches upon a
multitude of conflicting as well as mutually exclusive themes: existentialism, spirituality,
theology, metaphysics, empiricism, objectivism, politics, etc. In 1961, during
filming his debut feature film Ivan's Childhood, Tarkovsky made a proposal to
his production house for a film on the life of Andrei Rublev. Tarkovsky and his
co-screenwriter Andrei Konchalovsky researched for more than two years to
develop the script. It was only in 1964 that the script was finalized and the
filming began.

A brief Interlude b/w Andrei and a Pagan Girl

Andrei Rublev presents to the viewers a bunch of creative but complex characters—including the Jester; the monks: Andrei, Kirill, and Danil; Theophanes the Greek; and the young Bellmaker—most of whom are either the victims of their own vanity or the lack of
it; Tarkovsky uses these convoluted caricatures as a means to portray the
different human personas viz. optimistic, pessimistic, idealistic,
humanistic, opportunistic, sadistic, etc.

Andrei Rublev: The Prologue

Andrei
Rublev also serves to be a repository of some of the greatest film sequences ever
filmed in the history of cinema. This includes a bizarre prologue depicting a man
taking a hot air balloon ride to escape an ignorant mob, an infamous orgy scene
that’s depicted as part of some pagan ritual, a Jester getting arrested for
mocking the Boyars, Kirill’s rendezvous with Theophanes the Greek, and the
casting of a bell for the Grand Prince by the opportunist son of a dead
bellmaker.

Andrei Rublev: The Jester

The movie's final sequence depicts some real works of Andrei Rublev in form of a montage as the viewer finally gets to witness (in the literal sense) the artistic genius of a truly great artist. The above mentioned scenes and a dozen or so more are highly
symbolic in nature owing to which they can be interpreted in more than just one way and perhaps that’s what makes multiple viewings absolutely essential.

Andrei Rublev: The Casting of the Bell

Owing
to its controversial nature, the movie couldn’t be released domestically in the early going and it was only in 1971 that a heavily edited version was released
in Soviet Union. Andrei Rublev's grotesque imagery coupled with its picturesque cinematography—high on detail with dream-like long takes—gives it a poetic feel. Andrei Rublev is an
unforgettable cinematic experience that gets better with each viewing and is a
living testament to the timelessness of cinema. One more aspect of Andrei Rulev that's worth mentioning is that despite it's rebellious subject and contradicting themes, the movie has an undercurrent of subtlety that balances it and prevents it from going overboard—something that Tarkovsky always took care of ever so meticulously.

Andrei Rublev consoles the young Bellmaker

Overall,
Andrei Rublev makes cinema touch new heights and depths and yet we barely get to witness Tarkovsky's signature mysticism and phantasm—the motifs predominant in his later works;
Andrei Rublev is a great means to get acquainted with Tarkovsky’s style of
moviemaking before delving into his more personal works like Solyaris (1972),
Stalker (1979), Nostalghia (1983), and The Sacrifice (1986). Andrei Rublev brings to the fore the artistic yearnings of a quintessential artist and represents a kind of cathartic cinema that owing to its profundity can be tough to
imbibe in the early going but has huge rewards for those who are patient and are willing to
delve deep enough to savor its true delight. Highly recommended!

10
comments:

This is a great review. I'm still entranced by what I saw. I'm going to re-watch it again later in the summer for my Auteurs piece on him this coming August. He's truly one of the great filmmakers out there. Dude needs more love.

I am really glad you liked it, Michael! Andrei Rublev was the movie that introduced Tarkovsky to the whole world. In a way it can also be looked upon as a biography of a tormented artist (which easily could have been Tarkovsky himself) and that's what makes it so special. Each and every scene is just perfect!!!

Murtaza, a well-written review. Congrats. I probably expected too much from this film--I still rate 'Solaris," "Stalker," and "Sacrifice" as superior works compared to this one. The theology and the Russian "soul" (the favorite theme of Andrei Konchalovsky, who co-wrote the script) dominates the film, just as Tarkovsky's family dominated "Mirror." The three movies that I like so much, in contrast, deal with more universal issues, which is probably why I like them so much. Of course, I have yet to see "Nostalgia."

Thanks for those kind words of motivation, Sir! I haven't seen Sacrifice yet and I need to watch Nostalgia again so as to get a better insight into it. Stalker and Solyaris are my favorite Tarkovsky films as well... undoubtedly, they are in a class of their own. In fact, very few works of cinema that I have seen can match them in their brilliance. Though it may not be in the same league, I still love Andrei Rublev as a great work of art. Besides, it's also the movie that gave Tarkovsky the much deserved international recognition... and he never looked back. In a way it can also be looked upon as a biography of a tormented artist (which easily could have been Tarkovsky himself) and that's what makes it so special for me.

A small clarification. "Andrei Rublyev" is indeed a great film for me as well. There are segments of the film that are stupendous. They surpass the quality of most American films. But in comparison, the later Tarkovsky works appear more elegant. My guess is the problem has much to do with the divergence of perspectives between Tarkovsky and Konchalovsky. They worked together on only two films--"Andrei Rublyev" and Tarkovsky's diploma film "The violin and the steamroller" And both directors are 'thinkers' and were close collaborators initially as co-scriptwriters.

I also must clarify that all this time I was completely oblivious of Andrei Konchalovsky's contribution to the movie. I must thank you (my readers will surely benefit from it) for throwing in the perspective.

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About Editor-In-Chief

Murtaza Ali Khan is an independent film critic / journalist based out of New Delhi, India. He has been writing on cinema for over seven years. He runs the award-winning entertainment blog A Potpourri of Vestiges. He is also the Films Editor at the New York City-based publication Cafe Dissensus and regularly contributes to The Hindu, The Sunday Guardian, DailyO, and National Herald. He was previously a columnist at Huff Post. He has also contributed to online publications like Newslaundry, The Quint, Dear Cinema, Desimartini and Jamuura Blog. He is also on the guest panel for live discussions on the television news channel NewsX.